A Day at the Fair

Jen thought about how she wanted the day to go. Matt was driving her to the annual renaissance fair. It was not his favorite thing to do on a Saturday, but he was willing to be her escort for the day. She could have gone alone, but she knew that wouldn't be any fun.

When her doorbell rang she rushed to the door, pausing to check her hair in a nearby mirror. A knock drew her attention back to the door. At least he's as anxious as I am, she thought as she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Matt stood on her front porch wearing a white polo shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and sneakers. His well-trimmed beard framed a shy smile that reached his dark blue eyes. He ran his fingers through his short cropped hair. She inhaled the smell of Irish Spring body wash and Curve cologne as he stepped forward and embraced her in a hug, which lasted a fraction longer than she expected. She gently extracted herself from his arms.

"Hey, Jen," he smiled down at her. "I feel a bit under dressed. What's the occasion?"

"Sometimes a girl just wants to look pretty," She smoothed the long pleeted skirt of her white sleeveless dress and slung her purse onto her shoulder.

He took her by the hand and led her to the passenger side of his car, opened the door for her, and she lowered herself into the car. "You don't need a dress to make you look pretty," he commented before closing the door.

As she watched him come around to the driver's side of the car she wondered what he meant by that comment. He climbed in and started the car, angling his body so he could see behind him as he backed out and stretched an arm to touch the head rest of her seat. As he turned to face front his arm brushed her, and she inhaled. They both rested their arms on the center console as he drove. She grinned when she felt his arm press lightly to hers, and added a bit of pressure from her own.

"Thank you for this," Jen said. "I owe you big time."

"Not at all." Matt shook his head. "I'm happy to spend the day with you."

“We haven't spent a lot of time together since college, and I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." He casually brushed her with his pinky, and grinned at the surprised sound she made. When he stopped at a red light he looked at her and tugged gently on one of her strawberry-blond curls.

"Eyes on the road," she giggled swatting his hand away.

Matt smiled and turned his attention back to driving. After about forty-five minutes, the car crunched over the gravel in the parking lot of the fair grounds. Matt drove up and down the aisles trying to find a parking space. He found one in the back forty. Matt eyed Jen's platform sandals as he assisted her out of the car.

"Are you going to be ok walking in those?"

"Yes."

They walked toward a set of stone arches, which served as an entry gate. A man in a kilt approached them with a strip of yellow arm bands looped around his arm.

"M’Lord and Lady if you can prove ta me yer over one and twenty I can give each of ye one of these lucky wrist bands that'll getcha as much ale and wine as ya can pay for," he said in a well-practiced Scottish ber. Both Matt and Jen presented him with their IDs. He gave Jen's ID a second glance before handing it back to her. He offered her a flirtatious smile and tickled her wrist as he fastened the band around it. "Yer a pretty wee lass."

"Thank you," Jen giggled.

"Ye two have a good time today, and make sure ye take her across the kissing bridge laddy," he teased jovially. "The lassies love the kissing bridge."

"I'll keep that in mind," Matt called back as they approached the gate.
When they passed through the gate into the fairgrounds, Jen took the program held out by a woman in a bodice, and long skirt.

"Good Den Lord and Lady," the woman smiled. "I do hope you enjoy your day in the shire."

"Thank you," Jen smiled back. "Good den to you as well."

"Oh, thank you M' lady!"

"Where to first, M'lady?" Matt offered her his arm and covered her hand when she gently gripped his bare forearm.

"Are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

Jen lifted her chin and sniffed the air. She caught the scent of fair food right away. "This way," she said giving his arm a gentle tug. Matt allowed her to lead him to a food stand selling fried turkey legs, shepherd's pie, and Scottish eggs.

"It's on me," she said when he reached for his wallet.

"Thank you."

When it was their turn in line they ordered a fried turkey leg, shepherd's pie, and two soft drinks. They took their food and settled on a plot of grass under a shade tree. They each ate a portion of the turkey leg and shepherd's pie. Once they finished their lunch, they disposed of their trash, and strolled down a nearby macadam path.

“Let’s see if we can find that kissing bridge,” Matt suggested, taking the map from her.

“You scoundrel.” Jen laughed, giving him a gentle nudge with her hip.

Matt laughed as he skimmed the map. They walked at a leisurely pace, pausing occasionally so Jen could examine various booths selling various items. Matt paused as they stepped onto the wooden planks of a bridge crossing over a flowing stream of water. He leaned against the wooden railing and looked down into the flowing water. Jen leaned back against the rail and waited patiently. Matt smiled as he folded the map and stuffed it into his back pocket. Jen gasped as he stepped in front of her and rested his hands on the railing on either side of her, boxng her in.

“Matt, what are you doing?”

“Something I should have done years ago.”

He pressed his lips to hers and when she did not pull away he attempted to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted under the gentle coaxing of his tongue. She sighed as he sealed his mouth over hers. His arm slid around her waist pulling her against him and his free hand slid up her back into her hair. The gentle tug of his hand tilted her head back. He pulled back breathing heavily. He backed away from her to the other side of the bridge and leaned against the rail.

“Matt?” Jen gasped between ragged breaths. “Are you alright?”

“Give me a moment.” He held up his hand to halt her when she stepped toward him. After a moment or two he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. “I am sorry, I should not have made such a spectacle.”

Jen glanced to either side of the bridge. There were plenty of people around but no one was looking at them. If they looked while he kissed her there was no sign of it. A woman coming toward the bridge caught her eye. She was a tall statuesque woman with pale skin, red lips, ice blue eyes, and platinum blonde hair that hung past her waist. Jen’s eyes lingered on the pointed ears protruding from the silken strands of hair. The woman’s body was swathed in a black silk gown that whispered as she approached. It contrasted against the deep crimson interior of the cloak she wore. The slender pale fingers of her right hand curled around a black staff with ruby at the top held by three prongs resembling claws. She paused just before bridge, an icy gaze fixed on Jen.

“Nice costume,” Jen offered nervously.

“Costume?” The woman inquired. “This is no costume. I am Empress Demona of Reaven. Of course I would not expect either of you to recognize me. You never do.”

“Have we met?” Matt turned to face the woman and instinctively put himself between her and Jen.

“Oh yes,” Demona confirmed. “We have met once every century since I first punished you for your crime against my daughter.”

“Crime?” Jen inquired. “What crime?”

“Betrayal,” Demona spat. “After centuries you still have not learned your lesson.”

“Ok,” Matt eased Jen back. “We’re not interested in participating in your little drama.”

“My drama!” Demona exclaimed. “It is you and the trolep behind you who bring the drama on yourselves.”

“Whatever you are playing at,” Matt warned. He tried to speak slowly and remain calm. “We are not interested.”

“Fool!” Demona exclaimed. She spread her arms wide. Her cloak billowed in a wind that seemed to only affect the area around them. “This is no game! I am finished toying with you! You, boy, will return to Penterra with me! As for you, wretched girl, I shall remove you from existence so you will never interfere with my plans again!”

“Leave them be!” Another voice boomed from the other side of the bridge.

They all turned to see a smaller woman approaching. Her dark black hair hung to her waist. The green silk gown she wore matched her green eyes. She carried a black staff with an emerald set in the three pronged claws. Her black cloak billowed in the wind. Jen glanced around to see if anyone else was watching. It was then she noticed the shroud of darkness which surrounded them. Forks of red and green lightning crackled in the dark. Matt turn to Jen and pulled her against him as a loud peal of thunder rent the air.

“I don’t think we’re at the fair anymore,” Jen whimpered, clinging to Matt. Thunder frightened her and being in the middle of a storm was unnerving.

“Morgan,” Demona growled. “You cannot stop me now any more than you could over the past centuries. Prepare to watch her die yet again!”

“Not this time!” Morgan vowed.

The two women raised their staves and began chanting in unison. Jen and Matt clung to each other but they could both feel an invisible force pulling them apart. The chanting became a dim buzz in their ears. Their eyes were blinded by a hot white light and then darkness.

.          .          .

Morgan Terrashaper knelt on the wooden bridge waiting for her vision to clear. Her body shuddered with each ragged inhalation. Magic was so weak in the 21st century. A time spell like the one she used to save her daughter and their Prince was almost impossible to achieve without taking a great toll on the caster.

A pair of black velvet slippers came into view. Morgan raised her head and stared up into the molten blue eyes of Demona Blackreaver . She did not seem weakened by her attempt to cast an equally powerful spell that would condemned Morgan’s daughter to a void of torment and darkness. Morgan gathered her remaining vestiges of strength and used her staff to haul herself to a slumped stand. She leaned on the staff to remain upright.

“Where did you send them?” Demona asked.

“Exactly where you were going to take Matrim.” Morgan’s lips quirked into a weak smile and her body shook with soft laughter. “You have lost. My daughter is safe. She and Matrim will set things right in Penterra. With no further interference from you.”

“Think so, do you?” With a flourish of her left hand Demona produced an athame with a black blade.

Morgan’s eyes widened as the sharp tip of the blade pierced her left breast. She felt her essence being drawn into the blade.

“I may not have the power to cast the time spell myself,” Demona snarled. “I will just have to borrow yours.”

Word Count: 1,992